CarryOn
by Alison Burns
Summary: an ongoing collection of unrelated one and two shots about the lives of our two favourite boys. Will most likely involve lots of angst and whump but a bit of anything and everything. Chapter 3: Sam's hurt and Dean, being Dean, goes too far.
1. Angels On Shoulders

**_Hi everyone! I'll try and keep the author notes minimal in the future but for now just bear with me. So this is my first Supernatural fanfiction and I've never done anything like this before (In other fandoms I usually do chapter stories) but I've just had so many wonderful ideas for one and two shots for supernatural that I thought it would be best to bring them all under one roof (or story as it were)._**

**_Prompts, suggestions, ideas, are more then encouraged! Your ideas will help keep this going. You can leave it in a review or PM me, whatever you like, and let me know what you want to see written next._**

**_Before we go any further I should also probably mention (but you would have guessed this) that I own nothing. Not the characters not the show and I'm not making any money off this. The only thing that's mine are my own ideas. I won't say that again, you've all been officially warned XD._**

**_Alright so this first one will be in two parts. I was reading the episode description for 8x14 'Trial and Error' and this just popped into my head. _**

There's An Angel On My Shoulder Oh No But He's Not Watching Me

Sam was desperate. He knew Dean wasn't going to relent, had seen it in the look in his eyes, and it made him want to scream. They were running out of time and options and he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. All the stress, all the pressure and worry, was taking it's toll on him.

What he'd been through, what he'd done, what he'd lost. Almost anyone else would have crumpled to pieces with the weight of it all. But Sam was more then just desperate. Sam was also a Winchester, and there was an important fact about Winchesters that couldn't be forgotten. A fact that almost anyone who'd ever known any of them could tell you.

They were stubborn as hell. They were also prone to crazy, suicidal heroics. It was a bad combination. It meant they tended to die young, and violently. It meant they grew old and they grew tired long before they should have.

Sam was tired. He didn't want to be, he wanted to care more about himself, about Garth and Kevin and Cas, about the world, but he couldn't. There was only one person who still managed to make him feel. Feel pain, feel annoyed, feel happy. Feel alive. His brother had done everything for him, never once let him down, and how had Sam repaid him? He'd left him for dead. God and he'd made so many other mistakes along the way he couldn't forget those. Drinking demon blood, killing innocent people. He wouldn't make another one, he refused. There was no way his brother was taking the fall again. Not when he'd just gotten back on his feet after a year in purgatory.

He glanced over at his brother one more time, just to make sure he was really asleep in that godawful nasty hotel bed. Then he bowed his head and prayed to an angel.

"Castiel." He kept his voice quiet. "I could, uh, use your help." He paused not quite sure how to continue. "It's about the tablet. We need to talk-"

There it was. An almost imperceptible rustle behind him and he turned, getting to his feet. There in all his trench-coated, messy haired, glory was Castiel.

"You called?" Sam glanced over at Dean as he stirred.

"Not here." He dragged the angel outside into the hall and shut the door as quietly as he could behind him. Castiel was studying him intently.

"You called me about the tablet, why are we not including Dean in this?" Sam leant against the door and sighed.

"Because he's a stubborn idiot. He doesn't get it he doesn't understand-"

"I'm not sure I do-"

"Cas Kevin said to seal the demons in someone would need to perform three heavenly tests. We know the first one's killing a hellhound which is bad enough but who knows about the other two. I don't exactly think they're going to involve eating pie, do you?" Cas looked as if he was thinking hard.

"I wasn't aware of any heavenly test involving pie-"

"Enough about the pie! Cas I called you here because I need your help."

"You need help finding one of the items for the spell?"

"Already done." Cas cocked his head.

"Help completing the ritual then?" Sam smiled sadly at him. It was a testament to an angel's natural lack of empathy and emotion, even in Cas, that he truly didn't know already.

"Just takes one human and three tests. I think bringing an angel along might be cheating." Cas looked lost and just a little bit wary.

"What do you want, Sam?"

"I want you to stop Dean from following me. Just for a day or two that's all I need. I'll meet up with Garth and Kevin, complete the three tests." He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat. "And then this will all be over."

Cas took a step toward him. "You want me to detain your brother. Dean Winchester." Sam laughed humorlessly.

"I never said it would be easy." His expression turned serious. "You're an angel, Cas, you can do it."

Cas stiffened. His expression never changed but Sam got the feeling there was rage bubbling there, just underneath the surface.

"No." Sam thought he must be hearing things.

"Excuse me?" In the time it took him to blink Cas had him pinned against the wall.

"You heard me. I said no. You're so prepared to run off, risk your life to keep your brother safe. What about you Sam? This is dangerous!" Sam met his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Cas." Castiel slammed him roughly into the wall again and his vision blurred around the edges.

"And what if you're not? What about Dean? He needs you!"

"Better me then him. He's be alright, he's got you. All I've done from the very start is cause him trouble." Cas pulled away from him turning his back.

"You're my friend too Sam. Despite what you think you do matter to people, your life does mean something." He turned back to the youngest Winchester. "You shouldn't be so eager to throw it away." Sam could feel the familiar taste of iron coating his mouth. He smiled big and channeled as much of his older brother as he could.

"Come on Cas, that gate needs to be closed. You can't protect both of us so man up, who's it gonna be?" Sam's expression softened. "I think we both know."

In that moment Castiel hated the youngest Winchester. Hated him because he was right and he was standing there all smug and patient already knowing Castiel's answer before he gave it and yet he couldn't make himself give a different one.

"Twenty four hours. You have twenty four hours that's all you get. Then I let him come after you." Castiel paused. "Then I help."

"Deal. Hey Cas? I'll see you both soon." Castiel didn't reply, just stood there staring past him toward the hotel door, and Sam walked away.

_**Let me know what you think! Up next - Morning comes and Dean finally wakes. Sam isn't there, but Cas is.**_


	2. Stop Saving Me Cas!

**_Hi everyone! So here's the second half that goes with chapter one. Before you read it though I just had a few things to say. First of all thank you to everyone who favourited and alerted and also ElizaT and madinalakesavedmylife both of you for your kind reviews. Finally madianlakesavedmylife thank you again for your wonderful peptalks over PM you are amazing. _**

**_I also felt I needed to address the review left anonymously by 'Ebony'. First of all despite the fact that your review consisted entirely of abuse I still want to thank you. Because everyone is entitled to their opinion and if you think my writing is crap that's alright you're allowed to think that. There is one line, however, that you mentioned where you completely misunderstood what I was trying to get across and this will be my chance to clear it up if anyone else was confused. Sam's line mentioning pie was in no way intended to imply anything about Dean's ability as a hunter and I'm sorry if you thought it was. Instead it was meant to imply that Sam didn't think the rest of the tests were going to be easy and that was why, despite Dean being a great hunter, he still didn't want to risk his brother getting hurt. I'm sorry if this was unclear and I hope this makes a little more sense. I wish you all the best Ebony. _**

**_Alright enough this isn't what you're here for. On with the show._**

Stop Saving Me Cas!

When Dean woke his first conscious thought was that he was going to kill his little brother for letting him sleep so long. Sun was pouring in through the gaping motel curtains and he knew from how rested he felt that it had to be at least noon.

Shit Sam, they were supposed to be meeting Garth and Kevin.

"Sam's not here." Dean jumped and whirled around.

"Jesus Cas, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?" He pushed himself up to a fully sitting position eyes narrowing. "What do you mean Sam's not here?" His eyes ghosted over the room but there was no sign of the youngest Winchester. Dean's stomach clenched as Castiel refused to look at him. "Cas..." he tried to make his tone intimidating, a warning, but couldn't quite manage it. "There something you want to tell me?" Cas looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

"Your brother's gone to seal the gates." Dean scrambled to his feet suddenly unable to breathe.

"Damn it Cas why didn't you wake me? Why didn't you stop him! We need to go after him now-" Cas shifted his body a little so it was closer to the door. Not much, just enough that Dean couldn't miss it.

"You're staying right here, Dean." Dean was almost entirely certain that Cas had lost his mind.

"Listen I don't know what your problem is but I need to talk some sense into my idiot little brother and I'd appreciate a ride on some of that angel mojo." Cas placed himself fully between Dean and the door.

"I can't let you do that. I'm sorry but I made a promise." Dean felt something hot boil inside him. He let out a cold, hard laugh.

"My brother put you up to this didn't he?" Dean shook his head running a hand through his hair. "Man Sam even for you this is a whole new level of stupid-"

"He's trying to protect you, we both are."

"Yeah? Well stop, alright, just stop!" He was right in front of Castiel now, nose to nose. He tried to make a move around him, toward the door, but Castiel was quicker. "Get out of my way, Cas, or I swear I'll make you."

"How, Dean? I already removed all your weapons, not that most of them could hurt me. You can't overpower me we already know that. You could use a blood sigil and send me away but I promise I've got so many layers of protection on that door that you'll never get through it in twenty four years never mind hours. And even if, by some mistake on my part, you managed to find a way out of this room you would still have no idea where your brother is or any way to get to him. Sam took the impala." Castiel gave him a look. "I'm not an idiot, Dean." The Winchester growled and shoved him hard before stalking back toward his bag and grabbing his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Sam and telling him to get his ass back here I'm not letting him do this!" He held down the two on his phone until it called Sam's number and started to ring.

And ring.

And ring...

_'Hey this is Sam Winchester's cell if this is an emergency call my brother Dean-' _

"Damn it!" He pressed end and sagged onto the bed head in his hands. Sam could be anywhere right now. Maybe he was already hunting down a hellhound or maybe...maybe he was dead, lying there all alone with his throat torn open.

"Your brother's fine." Dean jumped and glared up at Cas who was standing in front of him. "I can sense both your presences, like lights, and his still burns bright."

"Yah?" Dean snarled. "For how long? You don't seem to get it he could die!" There was a moment of silence and Dean thought he could almost see something like shame flit across Castiel's face.

"If you did this you could too." Something clicked into place in Dean's head, a piece of the puzzle that he hadn't had before.

"You had a choice." He rounds on Castiel. "You had a choice and you chose to protect me over him! How could you?" Castiel turned away.

"We share a bond, Dean. After all we'd done for each other I couldn't...I wasn't-"

"You know what Cas? Go screw yourself. I don't want to hear it." He stood up and started toward the bathroom.

"Where are you going Dean?" He whirled back around throwing his hands in the air.

"Relax, I'm just taking a shower, that's all." He went to turn back around and stopped. "Cas listen to me. If anything happens to him because of this-"

Castiel nodded solemly. Dean didn't need to finish his threat for him to realize what it meant for both of them. If Sam died, maybe even if he didn't, Dean would never forgive him. Their bond could never go back to being what it was before. He watched as Dean slammed the door shut behind him. Castiel wasn't an idiot. He'd seen that Dean still had his phone in his hand and he knew without question that the man was casing the bathroom, seeing if he could fit through the tiny window or if there was something he could use as a weapon, but it didn't matter. Castiel had been thorough, there was no possible way he'd missed anything. Dean could decide to send him away but it still wouldn't get him out of this room. So while he waited for him to return Castiel decided to turn his vision inward in order make sure Sam was still alright.

The hours passed with agonizing slowness. Dean tried calling both Garth and Kevin but neither picked up. Whether that was due to Castiel or the fact that they, too, were following Sam's insane plan Dean wasn't sure. But once he'd had a shower, dried off, and changed into some clean clothes there was nothing to be done except wait.

Dean hated waiting at the best of times. He wasn't the kind of person who sat around letting others do his dirty work, never had been. But waiting, knowing his brother was out there somewhere risking his life, that was absolute torture. He didn't know how Castiel could stay so calm while he found himself pacing and cursing and throwing things. Then again, if he'd cared more about Sam in the first place the angel wouldn't have even let him go.

Dean needed a drink, he needed one bad. He grabbed a nearly full bottle of whisky from off the motel's wooden table and uncapped it. The alcohol burning his throat on the way down was a sweet, sweet release and he welcomed it as he chugged more.

Cas was standing there, staring at him, and as Dean felt the alcohol start to hit him he sneered.

"What do you want?"

"Drinking won't help Dean." He took another long swig.

"Go to hell. You bring me my brother and maybe then I'll stop." Dean focused on the bottle in his hands, ignoring they were shaking, and the two lapsed into was nothing left to do, nothing left to be said. Once again lines had been drawn that couldn't be unmade, erased, or forgotten. Once again he felt as if Castiel had personally betrayed him. And Castiel? He did what he always did best in situations like this one. He vanished, leaving the older Winchester all alone.

Dean did his very best to drown himself in that bottle of Whiskey. The drunker he got and the farther the sun dropped behind the trees the less anger he felt and the more it came to be replaced instead by something else. An awful, empty hopelessness that weighed on his chest and made him feel about a hundred years old.

Dean had punched and kicked the door until he bled. He'd cursed and he'd screamed and he'd rammed it with anything he could find but Cas had stayed true to his word. He was stuck, and as that realization had truly sunk in Dean found that more then anything he was tired.

It was dark by the time Castiel returned, popping into existence in front of him, and Dean stumbled backwards nearly falling over.

"Jesus Christ Cas!" Even as his vision spun a little Dean took in the barely concealed worry on Castiel's face. "What?" The part of Dean's brain that was still bothering to try and make sense of the world, registered that something was wrong. "Is it Sam?" The angel hesitated a moment. then-

"Yes." The word was so simple, so soft, but it hit the older Winchester like a freight train. Dean felt adrenaline mix with the alcohol coursing through his system.

"Please Cas you have to take me to him."

He knew things had to be bad when the angel didn't even argue. Castiel just nodded and pressed his fingers to Deans forehead. All of a sudden they weren't in that motel room any longer. In fact they weren't inside at all.

Dean almost wished they were, because the sight in front of him wasn't a welcome one. The forest was deserted, quiet, secluded, the perfect place to complete the ritual.

There were three familiar faces in the clearing they'd landed in. Two were trying to hold up a third who was on his knees.

Sammy!

Dean broke into a run and dropped to the ground in front of his brother. He watched Sam's eyes start to slip shut.

"Sam, Sam talk to me!" His brother's eyes shot open and Dean could see that one of them was going to develop a hell of a shiner.

"De'n?" He watched Sam's teeth chatter.

"Yeah I'm here Sammy I'm here. What the hell were you thinking?" His brother smiled through a mouthful of blood.

"Did it. No more demons." He slurred the words and Dean caught him as he sagged to the ground.

"Course you did." He felt something wet running down his brother's arms and pulled away from him just enough to be able to see. Two identical, matching, cuts run the length of the inside of each of his arms.

"Shit what the hell is this?" He could see the effort it was taking Sam to keep from passing out but he had to know. These cuts didn't look like they'd come from any of the big bad and ugly they hunted. The were too precise, too careful, too perfect. He met his brother's eyes and even glassy with pain the depth of the determination and love in them was almost frightening.

"Hellhound was the easy part. Test of brawn. Next was the test of brains." He clutched at his brother's arm and winced as pain wracked through his bruised body. "This, this was the test of courage. Had to prove I was committed." Dean watched Sam's face pale a little more as he took in his blood soaking into the ground around them. "Just didn't realize it would take quite this much-" Dean shook his head and pulled his shirt of starting to tear it into a few thick strips.

"You're an idiot, you know that right? I swear I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." He went to tie one of the strips around Sam's arm but was stopped by a tap on his shoulder.

"Let me help." Cas was standing over both of them. The rest of the words were unspoken but Dean heard them clear enough.**_ I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _**Cas brought his hand down placing it to the middle of Sam's chest. A moment later Dean watched Sam sigh as his arms stopped bleeding. Cas pulled his hand away.

"He's lost a lot of blood and he had serious internal damage as well, probably from the hellhound. He'll need a hospital but I've repaired the worst of it." Dean nodded, clutching his brother close. He looked up and met Castiel's eyes.

"Dean, I-" He shook his head and broke eye contact as he started shifting Sam's weight so that he could carry him.

"Listen Cas let's save the chick flick moment, alright? You did what you thought you had to do end of story." He struggled to his feet wondering how he was going to take even a step with the combination of his brother's weight and the alcohol in his system. Somehow, though, he would. Kevin and Garth and Cas all knew better then to offer to help after what they'd done. After what they'd allowed Sam to do. No he would be the one to carry Sam. He would look after him just like he always had and they would get through this, just like they always did. But not if they talked about it. Not if Dean allowed himself to embrace his emotions, that feeling of betrayal currently threatening to overwhelm him. No he would push that far, far down underneath a few more bottles of whiskey and hours and hours behind the wheel of the Impala with Metallica blasting. Because that's what you did if you wanted to survive all the crap the world threw at you. When you had to carry on even if you weren't sure you could. You buried everything as far down as you could until eventually it stopped aching so bad and you found that every smile you gave wasn't fake or forced. It wasn't easy but it was all that Dean knew how to do.

And he was good at it.

_**Alrighty let me know what you thought and also feel free to send me any prompts or ideas you'd like me to write about! I hope all of you are doing well =).**_


	3. I'll Take It All Away

**_Hi guys! First of all thank you to everyone who alerted and/or reviewed you are all amazing and I'm so grateful for your support. _**

**_So this next chapter is a one shot and it was requested by Lucydolly22. I kind of imagine it set sometime in season 4 not long before Sam turns to Ruby. I should add the disclaimer that I'm not an expert in anything to do with injuries or pain medication or any of that so take it all with a grain of salt. Also sorry that it isn't exactly what you requested I did my best! Anyhoo, enjoy I hope you like it!_**

How many times was it possible for something to go wrong during a simple salt and burn? Dean wasn't sure why they even called them simple. It would have been more accurate to dub them pain in the ass salt and burns or dodge the spirit salt and burns or perhaps watch your idiot brother get thrown into a gravestone by said spirit salt and burns.

Yeah, simple never really covered it.

Dean watched for a moment, frozen, as the ghost closed in on Sam who was spread helplessly on the ground.

"Dean!" The sound of his brother's voice snapped him out of it and he dropped the lit match on the doused corpse. The apparition went up in flames along with its bones and then just like that they were all alone. Sam leant against the tombstone face scrunched in pain and Dean ran to his brother.

"Sam! Sammy you alright?" Sam's eyes met his which Dean took as a good sign, but they were a little unfocused.

"Think so." his brother managed. "Hurts."

"Tell me where where Sam, tell me where." They'd been through this routine more times then either of them would care to count.

"M' shoulder. Ribs. And my head. Think I have a concussion." He seemed to be fighting hard for the words. Dean swore under his breath. Anything else they could handle but concussions were bad. As soon as you messed with the head you had to be real careful. Dean's hands traveled to his brother's shoulder, the one with the arm splayed to the side, and he gently felt along it. Sam whimpered and Dean pulled back.

"Sorry bro. Seems dislocated, looks like I'm gonna have to put it back." Sam shot him a look that was a mix of dread and resignation.

"Just make it quick." Sam lean forward and Dean got into position behind him.

"On the count of three. One-" Dean pushed and wrenched at the same time and Sam howled in pain as the shoulder popped back into place.

"I thought we said three." Sam muttered breathing in deep a couple of times as he tried to get a handle on the pain. Dean shrugged.

"I lied. I thought you wanted fast." He looked his younger brother over again, concerned by the blood matting at the back of his head. "Think you can walk?"

"Yeah, maybe." Sam grabbed onto Dean's outstretched hand with his good arm and managed to struggle to his feet. "Let's get out of here."

XXX

Sam wouldn't tell his brother, but every inch of his body hurt like hell. His shoulder throbbed and the rest of him ached from being thrown against the headstone. HIs vision blurred as they made their way to the car. He couldn't quite walk properly but he tried to lean on his brother as little as possible.

By the time he half fell into the passenger seat he knew something was wrong with his ankle, and Dean knew it too. They locked eyes.

"How bad?"

"I don't think it's broken." Dean nodded.

"We'll deal with it back at the motel, hang in there." Sam shot his brother a look.

"I'll be fine Dean. I've had worse." He had, too. Being stabbed, breaking bones, smashing his head even harder then he had tonight. Then there was the white hot agony of having his spinal cord severed. This was nothing by comparison. Getting nocked around a little simply comes with the territory, and it was selfish to worry his brother over it.

Which is why he didn't complain, not once, the whole way back. Even as every bump of the Impala sent waves of pain and nausea through him.

He accepted his brother's help up the motel stairs but only because he had to. His ankle had swollen and turned a nasty shade of purple on the way over. It hurt, a lot. But because he was sure it wasn't broken there wasn't much he could do except ice it, elevate it, and leave it be. They'd wrap it in the morning once they got the swelling down.

The feeling of relief Sam felt as they shut the door behind them and he made his way to the bed was enormous. No more moving, no more hurting. He was exhausted. Words from Dean, who was standing by the door, stopped him.

"Not yet. I want to take a look at the back of your head first. That needs to be cleaned." Sam would have groaned but he knew Dean was right so he just nodded tightly, ignoring the pain that each breath caused him, and together the two brothers made their way to the motel room's tiny bathroom.

Sam sat on the lid of the toilet while his brother looked him over because it hurt too much to stand. When Dean had cleaned the cut to the back of his head and was satisfied that a trip to the hospital wasn't needed he finally let Sam slide under the covers of his motel bed. Sam leant back against the pillow propped up behind him and let out a sigh. Dean watched him a moment, arms crossed over his chest, then grabbed one of his own pillows and held it up.

"Here lift your leg, I'll slide this under." Sam obliged then lowered his ankle carefully to the pillow. Dean grabbed one of those ever-handy ziplock bags they always carried and filled it from the icebox before zipping it closed. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the bag before handing it to Sam who held it against his ankle. He sighed with relief as the cold started to seep through, only removing the ice when he couldn't take the cold any longer.

He let his brother's mother-hen moment go without the mocking it deserved. One of the things he'd learned early about Dean was that there was this deeply engrained instinct in him. This need to protect and look after Sam that, in times like this, took over from the ultra sarcastic, smooth, hustling hunter that showed his face most of the time.

For the second time that night Dean just stood there, as if he needed confirmation that his brother would be alright before he could relax.

"How's the pain?" Sam winced as his ankle throbbed again.

"Not bad."

"Still dizzy? Think we need to wrap your ribs?"

"Dean, I'm fine." He held his hands up.

"Alright, alright." He sat down on his own bed kicking off his shoes as he did. He grabbed the remote and turned the tiny TV sitting on the dresser on, flicking through a few channels, but quickly lost interest and pressed the mute button before turning back to Sam.

"I wish you'd take something." Sam felt the first irking of annoyance slither through him. Sometimes Dean acting like he was twelve could get old real fast. He laughed a little, trying to ignore the pain spiking through his chest. He was too exhausted for an argument.

"What for a twisted ankle? Dean."

"No not for the ankle. I saw your ribs. Just because they aren't cracked doesn't mean they aren't bruised and if they are you know what's coming-" Sam winced a little at the thought. It was sometimes difficult to tell right away with bruising but judging by the pain he'd felt laughing he thought they might be. Within the next few hours he would know for sure, and if they were he was in for a world of pain in the next few weeks.

Great, just great.

"Dean it's honestly not that bad. Now if your uninjured ass would be quiet I'm going to get some sleep." Dean pulled a face but turned off the TV.

"It's late anyway." Sam shut the light beside him off, wincing as the movement pulled at the muscle around his ribs. He leant back, leaving the pillow propped up behind him, and tried to relax but the pain wouldn't let him. every part of him throbbed, especially his ribs and ankle, and the back of his head, though he'd let Dean clean it, still stung and itched. But he wasn't about to use up their pain killers or their sleep aids on something like this. Save them for when they were truly needed because they sure weren't cheap. Instead Sam listened to the rhythmic, even breathing of his older brother, letting it fill him with calm. That air moving in and out of his brother's lungs meant Dean was safe. It meant he was safe. It meant everything was, for the most part, alright in the universe. Now that was a serious rarity.

He was so close to sleep, which was probably why he screwed up. When he'd been mostly conscious he'd been able to watch his movements, to make sure he didn't role or turn or breathe too deeply. But once the whispered half dreams started he was at their mercy.

He was suspended, arms open wide, high above the ground. For a moment time seemed to stand still and then gravity took over and time started again and Sam fell. He fell knowing hell was waiting for him.

He jerked awake feeling pain radiate from his chest outward as the muscles around his ribs spasmed in protest of his movements. Panicking he tried to sit up more which only unleashed a whole new level of pain and all of a sudden he couldn't breathe as his chest constricted and coughs racked his body, each one life a knife piercing him.

Dean was by his side in a second.

"Hey there easy now." The feel of his brother's hand on his back, rubbing slow circles, grounded him and after a few moments the coughs subsided along with the worst of the pain. When he was relaxed and quiet he felt Dean let go and his brother's face appeared in front of him, brow creased. "I know we should have wrapped your ribs. Hang on." He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a role of tenser and a glass of water. He set the water aside and sat Sam up as slowly as possible. Sam lifted his shirt and Dean's expert hands started wrapping. Before long Dean secured the tenser in place and Sam let his shirt drop. Dean held the glass of water out to him next. "Drink." Sam grabbed it without argument.

He should have been more careful, he should have seen his brother's expression. But he was tired and his throat felt like it was on fire.

He didn't notice the world was spinning more then it had been until he'd nearly downed the glass. Setting it on the side table he leaned back and groaned as he rubbed his temples, thinking it was just the after effects of hitting his head. Then he noticed his brother's refusal to meet his eyes and he realized.

"Dean?" His brother seemed to be in a hurry to put as much distance between them as he could. His vision was fading, going black at the edges. "Dean what did you put in that water?" His brother did his very best to look offended.

"Nothing!" Sam could see right through it.

"Don't lie to me."

"Alright maybe something."

"Dean!" Sam shot his brother his best glare as he struggled with unconsciousness. He wasn't finished. They were going to do this now, no way was Dean allowed to think that _this_ was okay.

"Hey don't get angry. You're the one who's being an idiot. You're my brother you should know by now that if you won't look after yourself then I will." Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not look after himself? Which one of them ate salads instead of burgers? Which one of them did most of the drinking? Dean Winchester was telling him to look after himself? This was a joke.

"Not a child." He mumbled the words, quickly loosing his battle against the dark that was threatening to claim him. Whatever Dean had slipped him it was strong. He had probably added too much of it (idiot). That would be just like his brother.

"Yeah?" Dean's face filled his vision. "Then quit acting like one. You need to rest Sam." His eyes closed without his consent but he was able to manage one last retort.

"Thought I could trust my own brother."

"You can, bitch. You'll thank me in the morning." Sam vowed that he wouldn't. As the drugs pulled him under he knew one thing for certain. Things needed to change between the brothers. This ridiculous back and forth had gone on long enough, and something had to give. Sam would make his brother see it.

**_So. Decent? Awful? Let me know! And as always keep the prompts coming! Next time: With everything they'd been through, all the horrors they'd experienced, Dean was just surprised it hadn't happened sooner._**


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